


rose trees, east of varick

by petragem



Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: F/F, because why even not, plus eventual cameos by the rest of the crew
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-07 12:25:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11623494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petragem/pseuds/petragem
Summary: The Notting Hill AU that nobody asked for!  Erin's a star, Holtz is a mess, everyone has feelings.





	rose trees, east of varick

**Author's Note:**

> TY x 1 million to lizzen for the beta.

Holtzmann's unboxing a delivery of chemistry gossip magazines (Mendelevium: Friend or Foe?) when she hears the shop door rattle open, bells tinkling, and the click of high heels.

She frowns. They're not open, strictly speaking, not until noon, but Holtz likes coming in early, just to tinker. Looks up, and: Erin _Gilbert_ , movie star, Oscar winner, former fake surgeon on some long-running network hospital drama literally all of Holtz’s exes were obsessed with. Holtz's breath catches in her throat. Drops her box cutter. Regains control of her body, and calls out: “‘Morning. Welcome to Higgins Science Books and Co. Feel free to look around.”

Erin glances at the sign in the window, open side facing in. “Sorry, I thought it was a push but it was a pull but, um, anyway, I was just—I was wondering? Is Abby Yates here?"

"You know Abby?"

"A long time ago. I heard she ran the place now, and I was in the neighborhood, so. Figured I'd come say hi."

"She'll be in later. Two, threeish. She teaches on Tuesdays.”

"Oh." Erin's shoulders sag. Gestures to the closest bookshelves, sneaks one more glance at the closed sign. "I'll just? Look around?"

Holtz nods. "Totally. Take your time."

Watches her disappear into the modern physics section, hears the tap tap tap of her very uncomfortable looking shoes. Lunges for her phone plugged in behind the checkout counter. Texts Abby: "YOU KNOW ERIN GILBERT??"

"Uuuuuugh," Abby types back at her. "She's the worst."

"?????"

"We had a thing--or not, a thing a thing, but we were friends, and then we weren't, and she disappeared. Then got famous. And is dead to me."

"I LIKE HER"

"You fucking would."

Holtz sends her a shrugging bitmoji, grins, and starts fiddling with her wire strippers. Nearly jumps out of her skin five? ten? thirty? minutes later, when Erin sets a stack of books on her counter. Copies of the new _Science_ and new _Cell_ , a book about particle physics. A Marie Curie biography. A jokey gag gift wall calendar, a science cartoon a day for 541 days.

"Find everything okay?" Holtz asks, setting her tools aside. 

Erin nods, wistfully. Gestures at the piles of metal and piles of books, a welded iron sculpture slash half-built journal stand Holtz is building, in the corner. ”I always loved stuff like this."

Holtz cocks her head, confused. "Dust? Dirt? Grime? Welding fumes?" She keeps meaning to thoroughly clean, vaccuum the baseboards and windex the windows, air out the place, but, well.

Erin smiles and shrugs. "Science. Old books. Art."

"Ah." 

“Anyway. Would you mind telling Abby that I was looking for her? My name's--"

"Erin Gilbert. Please. I know who you are."

Erin blushes. "Right, okay."

Holtz hands her a tote bag filled with purchases, deadpans: "I loved you in the _Casper_ remake."

Erin laughs at that, surprised, and fake glares at her. "Okay, that film was better than it sounds and--"

"I know it was!" Holtz argues, delighted. "I'm being serious, I saw it! That scene where you tried to touch the ghost but couldn't and cried, you were rad."

Erin narrows her eyes. Says, "Thanks," like she doesn't quite believe her. "Anyway, good luck with that?" she adds, nodding towards Holtz's half-recircuited cash register. Turns to leave. "It was nice meeting you..."

"Holtzmann," Holtz supplies. "Jillian Holtzmann."

"Holtzmann," Erin repeats. The corners of her mouth soften. She turns, and walks out the door.

\---

Erin comes back the next day, and the next, and the next day after that. Abby misses her every time, out to lunch, out to her allergist, out to yell at their landlord over his inadequate response to the building's AC constant conking out.

"She's not avoiding you on purpose," Holtz says, helpfully.

Erins frowns. "No, avoidance really isn't her style.”

Holtz gives her a paper weight filled with scrap metal, a double helix temporary tattoo, a stack of coupons to the math museum. On the house. Agrees: "No, it really isn't."

\---

Erin doesn’t come the next day. 

Holtz sulks, then tears apart the chemistry corner, rearranges rebuilds and restacks. Feels marginally better.

\---

Day after that, Holtz is not going to wait around for Erin to come, or to not, so midday she waves goodbye to Abby and skips out the door, pops her headphones on. Plays the air guitar as she stomps to the beat of whatever turns up on shuffle. Dances into the corner bodega for a cookie pack and something salty. Sidesteps into the fancy juice place right next door for a lemongrass smoothie Patty sort of somehow got her hooked on and okay, it's healthy, and it's trendy, and it's like drinking grass, basically, but it's also delicious and the barista's cute, so so slides three dimes into the tip jar, tips her head. Slurps her drink up through her straw, tucks her snack pack under her arm, and barrels out the door. 

Barrels straight into Erin Gilbert.

Watches in horror as the pale green of her drink blooms across the clean starched white of Erin's shirt.

"Shoot, Erin, I am so--I am so sorry." Holtz sets her keys, her wallet, her half-empty smoothie cup, on the ground, tries to help Erin slough off some of the moisture. Realizes there is clinging happening, realizes she is dangerously close to Erin's boobs, realizes there's a steady flush blooming across Erin's neck, and takes an embarrassed step back. 

Runs back inside to grab a fistful of napkins. 

Thrusts them at Erin.

"I live--my place is just down that way? I can grab you a clean shirt? And you can wait in the shop, if you want?" Holtz scuffs her sneakers on the pavement, shifting in place. "Fuck, I'm sorry. I need to pay better attention where I'm going."

Erin glances up.

"Is Abby there today?" she asks, voice small and shaky. She is red and blotchy and Holtz is suddenly acutely afraid she might cry.

"Yeah, she is. So, I could take you there! Or--or I could not take you there, if you're asking because maybe you don't want to see her, right in this moment."

Erin shakes her head, "No, no I don't want--it's too--"

Holtz nods, too fast. "Okay, okay then howbout this--we'll go back to my place, we'll clean up your shirt, then if you want, we can go see Abby."

Erin looks down at the mess on her shirt, at the blue door down the street. At Holtz. Frowns, bites her lip, and nods, _okay._

So, Holtz takes the bags slipped around Erin’s wrist, guides her down the block, across the street, stepping out first, peeking around the row of parked cars, checking for traffic. Watches Erin’s hands flutter around the hem of her shirt, around the stain. Swallows hard, and muscles the key into her apartment door. Gets them inside.

Shakily points Erin to the bathroom while mentally running through what's clean enough in her closet to pass muster for a movie star. Is still wrestling her way through piles of semi-clean laundry when Erin appears at her bedroom doorway, changed into a tweed blazer like something that Holtz's grandma might wear except it's _hot_ , and also possibly she's not wearing anything underneath it, and Holtz doesn't mean to but possibly her jaw drops a little bit.

And then: Erin steps forward and kisses her, Erin Gilbert with her ridiculous heels and unfashionable jacket and heartstopping face is _kissing_ her, lips just glancing off the corner of Holtz's mouth and Holtz doesn't known if Erin missed her cheek or missed her lips, but she opens and closes her hands and wills herself not to reach for her, wills herself not to move or die or breathe, because it will be over in a second, just a friendly kiss among friendly sorta acquaintances, and Holtz feels Erin pull away, just slightly, but she’s still there right in Holtz’s space and before Holtz realizes what’s happening, before Holtz realizes she’s curled her hands around Erin’s waist, before Holtz realizes Erin’s wrapped an arm around her neck, Erin’s kissing her again, square on the lips. Holtz kisses her back and has it under control, she does, until Erin shifts a bit and Holtz's thumbs touch skin and Erin sighs into her mouth and Holtz spins them, gently, so her back's up against the wall. Lets Erin lean in closer, and it's good, it's so good, it's lazy and it's slow and it's Erin's tongue, licking its way into her mouth. Holtz traces circles on the smooth skin at Erin's waist and focuses on the sweet press of her lips and her tongue and her hands. There's a weird noise happening somewhere behind Holtz's right ear but she doesn't care, doesn't care about it at all, and then: 

"Hi Holtz!" Kev calls out, happily, clattering past, "Hi Lady Kissing Holtz!"

Erin jumps back and Holtz slumps down a few inches, tries to get her heart rate under control but it's hard, looking at Erin, Erin flushed and beautiful and breathing heavy, still staring at her mouth. 

Holtz grins feebly, gestures at Kevin's retreating back, and the dog trotting along behind him. "My roommate, Kevin, and his noble steed."

Looks down at her feet. Blurts out, “I’m really sorry about Abby,” and, “I’ll buy you a new shirt,” and, "Can I take you out sometime?" before she can lose her nerve.

Erin bites her lip, smiles, nods. Presses a quick kiss onto Holtz's cheek, and is gone.


End file.
